


The Ghost Queen

by angela_wang12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV), Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angela_wang12/pseuds/angela_wang12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holly had always known she was special, being the granddaughter of Harry Potter. What she didn't know was just how much. When she was dragged into the world of Greek mythology and learned that none other than Zeus himself had tried to kill her as a baby, how would she survive? Merlin (BBC)/ Harry Potter/ Percy Jackson. Familiarity with fandoms recommended. Please R&R!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Title: The Ghost Queen**

**Author: Angela Ravenclaw**

**Rated: T (I have no idea how this whole rating thing works, so not to be taken too seriously)**

**Warnings: Spoilers for… everything; violence & mild cussing**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable**

* * *

Prologue

Merlin Ambrosius had been waiting for fifteen hundred years. But for what? Not even he knew.

Currently, he was standing on the edge of the Lake Avalon, his jacket and jeans ripped and torn from the long hike through wild bushes. There wasn't anything for miles around, as muggles, modern wizards and even demigods tended to avoid this place, and he couldn't use any magical ways of transporting around here. The smooth, slightly blue surface of the lake was without a ripple, reflecting the snowy-white-tipped mountain in the distance. It was really a beautiful place. But Merlin just stood there, looking straight ahead, not really seeing anything. All his best friends had been dead for a long, long time. He had sent some of them away right on this very spot…

He shook his head. Dwelling on the past would do him no good. He knew from experience that would only bring him closer to insanity. So why had he come here, the place where more bitter memories registered than anywhere else (apart from maybe the ruins of what used to be Camelot), when he could be doing something productive like… That was a good question, what could he do that was the least bit productive? Maybe he just went to the lake for the sake of giving his feet something to do. He sighed. He felt like a mystery even to himself. He turned around and started to walk away.

That was when he heard it. A slight buzzing. It made him pause and listen. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was definitely there. It grew stronger and stronger until he could no longer pass it off as his imagination, until he knew something was definitely up. The lake was one of the last places where the magic of the Old Religion still thrives. His heart was pounding hard against his ribs. This was the first time since Arthur's death the Old Religion had spoken to him? Could the Old Religion have finally brought back Arthur? It seemed too good to be true.

Turned out, it was. As he turned back to the lake, he could feel a prodding at the back of his mind. It was as if someone, or something, was trying to break into his mind. Knowing it was the Old Religion, trying to send him a message of some kind, he let down his defenses and opened his mind willingly. A boy with a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead appeared in his mind. He knew him to be Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. So, no Arthur then.

More images flooded his brain. He saw Harry Potter's battles with Voldemort, including the final one where he had managed to defeat that vile creature of a man. That was nothing new; he had even been there personally a few times, helping Harry out of the shadows. Then Harry's wedding with Ginny. The scene skipped ahead a few more years, and he saw Ginny hugging a small red-headed child, obviously she and Harry's daughter. He vaguely remembered reading something in the Daily Prophet a few decades ago (Man, has it really been that long?) about them having a third child named Lily Luna Potter, so that must have been her. He watched as the little girl grew up into a young woman, and moved to Los Angeles, California. He could tell as he saw the Hollywood sign on the hill. There, she met a man. He couldn't make out the man's form, only that he was dressed entirely in black, but Merlin knew the guy must be important somehow. Lily soon became pregnant. Then, there was a scene, where she was crying and begging on the floor in front of the man, but he just shook his head and slashed his hand across the air, seemingly melting into the shadows.

Realization dawned on Merlin. Out of habit, he clenched his teeth to prevent himself from crying out, even though there was no one around to witness his show of emotion. Of course, only Hades and his descendents could have the ability to Shadowtravel. Since there were no children of Hades in L.A., this could only be the lord of the Underworld himself. That would mean… The child…

Images continued to flit across his brain. He saw Lily living in a cottage in some woods, the baby right beside her. The scene zoomed out to show the whole cottage, shaking and rattling in what seemed to be a storm. Suddenly, a streak of lightning came out of nowhere, hitting the little shack squarely on the roof.

This time, he did gasp out loud. Not only because of seeing the horrifying image of the charred and smoking cottage, but knowing exactly who had done that to it. Only his father, Zeus, had that much power with lightning. This wasn't the first time he had seen his father doing something drastic to eliminate possible danger, but that didn't make it feel any better. If anything, it made him madder every time.

He saw Lily's shield flicker out, revealing the baby perfectly safe, but Lily herself was lying a few feet away, either already dead or on her way there. The vision went out, leaving Merlin kneeling on the wet grass, gasping and panting. Then, he smiled grimly to himself and got to his feet again.

After millennia and a half, he finally had work to do.

* * *

***Nervously bites nails* So, what do you guys think? This is my first fanfic, so I have absolutely no idea how I did. Feel free to point out any mistakes or things you don't like. Keep in mind that I didn't grow up speaking English, so please cut me some slack!**


	2. Chapter 1 Harry, Holly & Hogwarts

**Title: The Ghost Queen**

**Author: Angela Ravenclaw**

**Rated: T**

**Warnings: Spoilers for… everything; violence & mild cussing**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable**

* * *

Chapter 1

Harry, Holly & Hogwarts

_11 years later_

The Hogwarts Express sat on platform nine and three-quarters, glistening red and smoke billowing out of the engine, looking as magnificent as ever. Students and parents gathered around, saying goodbyes to one another, dragging their heavy trunks onto the train. Owls and other weird-looking animals and objects were present in the crowd, making all kinds of even weirder noises.

Holly stood on the platform, her own screech-owl in a cage, Aunt Rose fussing about her clothes, trying to get her to tidy up her red hair, checking and double checking her list, and stuffing even more things she couldn't possibly need into her trunk. But she hardly paid any attention. She was still _very_ mad that she had to go to Hogwarts instead of Rockridge, the jewel of the Rockies as they said. She was, after all, raised in America, and would appreciate to get education in a familiar territory. Not to mention they weren't as likely to start fawning over her when they heard about her grandfather. Every time she tried to point this out, however, her aunt just hastily changed subject and never gave a straight answer. It was annoying to the point she actually considered slipping Veritaserum into the woman's morning orange juice. But she didn't, and now it looked like she never would.

She thought back on her life in Los Angeles. She's never known her parents, but she knew plenty about her mother and her "heritage". The famous Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Defeater of The Dark Lord, Savior of the Wizarding World and all that, was apparently her grandfather. Well, huzzah for that, but she didn't feel any real connection to the old man she saw only at Christmas feasts. She was brought up by her aunt Rose, who was infertile and couldn't have any children. Rose was nice enough, except for the whole Hogwarts vs. Rockridge thing, and treated Holly as her own. _Well_ , she thought sometimes to herself, _at least I got luckier than my grandfather_. She's never heard anything about her father though, so for all she knew, the guy could be anything from a drug dealer to the president. Probably not a wizard, though, or she would at least have heard _something_ about him.

She went to a muggle school in L.A., where people tended to avoid her as much as possible like she was carrying some contagious disease. Which was all fine by her, she wasn't really a "people" person anyways. However, she did have a good friend there. Alice Park was a nerd, no doubt about that, but she was a friendly girl who was apparently immune to whatever thing about Holly that was scaring away other people. Now she wouldn't even be on the same continent as her.

A loud whistle shook her out of her musings and brought her back to the present. Her eyes refocused on her tearful aunt, who told her to hurry up or she'll miss the train. As she was getting up the train, she yelled after her, "Be a good girl!"

"I will! You know I will!" Holly yelled back. Because despite her unpopularity at school, she's always been a goody-two-shoe who did reasonably well on her schoolwork and didn't do anything out-of-bounds. Well, mostly.

She got on the train, managed to find an empty compartment, and settled down beside the window. Her dark eyes glazed over as she once again thought back again at her life in L.A.

It was actually kind of scary, how much magical potential she was already showing. Her aunt said she was already levitating pots and stuff when she was just one year old, even stopping time when she was about four. Some things she did were deeds even experienced wizards and witches would struggle under. People would expect great things from Harry Potter's descendent, but this was probably above anyone's expectations. Which was why when Aunt Rose told Holly to keep it to the two of them, she had whole-heartedly agreed. Holly was always one to keep a low profile. Now, however, she wondered if that would be possible where she was going. She was bound to be a whiz at every subject she was about to take, not to mention people would be very interested about Harry Potter's American granddaughter.

Holly was once again shaken out of her thoughts, this time by the compartment door opening. A girl with dark, chocolaty curls stood in the doorway, looking slightly embarrassed and unsure about what to do with herself. Holly just sat there, waiting for the girl in front of her to make the first move.

"Hello, can I sit here?" The girl said, unable to bear the silence anymore. Holly shrugged indifferently and turned her head, continuing to stare out the window. The awkward silence that followed lasted a whole minute before the brown-haired girl decided she couldn't take it anymore.

"So, are you also a first-year?" True, it wasn't much of a conversation starter, but it was kind of hard to find a good one in the presence of such a quiet and slightly unnerving figure as Holly Potter.

"Yes." Holly said simply, still looking out at the not-at-all-interesting scenery on the outside of the train.

"Nice. What House do you think you'll be in?" The brunette pressed on.

"No idea. My whole family's been in Gryffindor though." Holly answered truthfully. She wasn't all that sure she was going to be a Gryffindor too. She's always felt somehow… different from the rest of the family, or probably the rest of the world for that matter.

The girl sitting in front of Holly smiled, glad to see the conversation starting to flow. "Cool. I think I'll probably be a Ravenclaw. Speaking of families, are you a Weasley?" She said, gesturing toward Holly's bright red hair.

Seeing no way around this one and cursing herself for bringing the subject up, Holly said, "No, I'm a Potter. My name's Holly." Seeing the other's expression, she added hastily, "I grew up in L.A., so I only see my grandpa at Christmas. Not much interaction between me and him." She looked around for a change of subject. "What's your name anyway?"

The other girl backed down, still looking awed. "Bree. Bree McKenzie. Wait, so you are American?"

The next few hours on the train were spent with Holly being bombarded with questions from Bree. Holly tried to avoid any questions about her abilities. Even so, by the time they reached Hogwarts, the brunette was practically worshipping Holly.

 _Well_ , Holly thought bitterly, loading herself into a boat to cross the lake, _that's what you get for being related to the most famous wizard since Merlin himself_.

* * *

The first-years lined up in the Great Hall for the Sorting ceremony. Even Holly had to admit, Hogwarts was a magnificent looking place, from the outside of the castle to the inside. The Great Hall itself had a ceiling enchanted to look like the sky above, as if you could just reach out to the heaven. The staff table was on the far end of the hall on a slightly raised platform, with the four House tables filled with chattering students below the platform. Among the crowd, Holly recognized her cousin Ian, who gave her a thumbs-up from the Gryffindor table. She smiled, glad for the support.

On the stool in front of the staff table sat the most frayed-looking and disgusting hat Holly had ever had the misfortune to lay her eyes on. She could just imagine the cheerleaders at her old school shuddering at the thought of putting the thing on. She was slightly more impressed however, as a rip near the brim of the hat opened wide like a mouth, and it started to sing about the different Houses and the Founders of Hogwarts.

A loud round of applause followed the hat's song. The hat bowed to each of the four tables and became still once more. A rather airy-fairy looking woman held out a roll of parchment and said in an equally light voice, "Ok, first-years, when I call your names, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

As more and more people were called to the front, Holly started tapping her foot to a tune in her head. She's always loved music; it was in fact her favorite class at the muggle school, and her best subject. Singing, dancing…

"Potter, Holly!"

Holly was, for the third time that day, jolted out of her thoughts. She went up to the stool, noticing that some people were muttering something around the lines of, "You reckon she's related to Harry Potter?"

The last thing she saw before the enormous ugly hat engulfed her head was Bree chattering to her neighbor at the Ravenclaw table, probably recounting their conversation on the train.

However, the hat was lifted off her head almost immediatly, shouting to the crowd in an ear-splitting voice, " _Slytherin!_ "

As Holly hurried over to the table on the far corner of the room, she could hear people booing and screaming so loudly, the Slytherins' cheers were almost inaudible. Her cheeks feeling as if they were on fire, she sat down on an empty bench, which was soon filled with curious Slytherins trying to get a look at her. She stared pointedly at her plate, not looking at anyone. If she could dig a hole and crawl into it without attracting any attention right then, she most definitely would.

Being the granddaughter of Harry Potter was one thing. Being the granddaughter of Harry Potter who got sorted into Slytherin was a completely different matter. This day really couldn't get any worse.

* * *

**Please R &R!**


End file.
